Class of 1999 (Mark L. Lester, 1989)

As a dedicated practitioner of the pedagogical arts I thought I should check this out to see if I could glean any tips to enhance my work. Well, first I think it’s safe to say one should never put one’s inner-city war-zone school into an experiment with a crazy eyed Stacy Keach who is determined to use reprogrammed military hard-ware as a solution to the campiest gangs since The Warriors. Also appointing Malcolm McDowall as Principal is probably a bad idea. And when one of the teachers is Pam Grier (pre-Tarantino) you’ve got to realise things will go South pretty quickly.

This B-Movie feels like someone locked the Blackboard Jungle in a room with The Terminator and supplied some Barry White CDs and Viagra. And while it’s not without its fun it suffers from a poorly conceived world in which parts of America have become “Free-Fire” zones where the police won’t go but where the Government is still funding public education. Like many future shock films it fails to answer important questions such as: where do they get all the hair gel from? How can these losers afford so many bullets? And why would McDowall’s Principal allow his peppy daughter to attend such a hell hole?

So, not great then. But fun can be had, particularly in the last 20 minutes where the budget is thoroughly used up on some dodgy pyrotechnics and stop motion work. Was enough of a cult hit to get a DTV sequel.